Lucky Charms
by jo-zabby
Summary: Expecting the rest of the household to be fast asleep, Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he discovered none other than Jo Harvelle perched cross-legged on the Roadhouse's countertop. (I own nothing)


_For Clinton Orion and Olivia Athena_

Dean woke up early, one nightmare or another keeping him from sleeping any later than four am. Ellen had offered him and Sam the beds in the back of the Roadhouse the night before and, for once, the boys had accepted.

Knowing it was futile to try to sleep any later, Dean stood and got dressed. He didn't bother being quiet – his exhausted little brother (who was peacefully sleeping in the bed across the room) could sleep through an earthquake.

Dean wandered down the hallway and into the main body of the well-worn bar. Expecting the rest of the household to be fast asleep, Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he discovered none other than Jo Harvelle perched cross-legged on the Roadhouse's countertop.

"Jo?" he called hoarsely, groggily ambling towards her. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same question, princess," she responded easily, shoving a fistful of something into her mouth as she did so.

"Good point." Ambling closer, Dean added, "What are you eating?" Jo grabbed the box sitting beside her and tossed it to him. He frowned and a slight laugh escaped his lips. "Lucky Charms? Seriously, how old are you?"

"Don't judge me, boy," she hissed with a glare. The look she was giving him probably would've been more fearsome had her cheeks not been bulging like a chipmunk's from her mouthful of the disgustingly sweet cereal.

Dean bit the inside of his lip to keep from smirking at her 'ferocious' form as he pushed the box back towards her and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Not judging, just curious."

Jo swallowed roughly. "They were my favorite when I was little… Guess I just never got over 'em," she explained with a shrug, throwing another bunch of the cereal into her mouth.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, they were my favorite too… Sammy always ate them all before I could get any, though." He paused and watched her devour yet another handful of food. "Don't you want, like, milk or a spoon for that matter?"

Jo just rolled her eyes. "Milk makes 'em too soggy and cutlery is for wimps. Besides, everybody knows this is the best way to eat cereal."

Dean chuckled quietly and shook his head, leaning against the bar and looking up at the girl in front of him. If Jo's unusually messy curls and the bags under her eyes were anything to go by, she suffered from insomnia as well. He noticed with a small smile that she was wearing a pair of men's boxers that were covered in little pigs and her too-small purple tank top had 'Led Zeppelin' scrawled across the front in big black letters. Dean also noted with a little smirk that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Jo caught him staring and tossed a fistful of cereal at him. "Quit starin', perv," she scolded.

"Not staring, _admiring_," Dean corrected, the hint of his signature flirtatious grin playing around the edges of his

Dean spotted the faintest blush creeping up Jo's neck and coloring her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. "You want some?"

Dean frowned. "Really?"

Jo scooted over and patted the space on the bar beside her. Without thinking, Dean clambered up on the bar beside her, his legs stuck out in front of him like a two year old. Jo flashed him a huge grin, one of her rare, happy, honest-to-God grins before nudging the box in his direction.

Dean plunged his hand into the beat-up scrap of cardboard, filling his hand with a small amount of the cereal. He pulled his hand back out and, tipping his head back, deftly poured the handful into his mouth. After swallowing the sugary mouthful, Dean turned to Jo. "I think you're right," he said. Jo gave him a mildly confused look as she dug her hand into the box.

"This _is_ the best way to eat cereal," he finished. Jo laughed loudly as she passed him the cereal and together they finished off the entire box of Lucky Charms, talking about everything, nothing, and giggling in between.

So when Dean trekked downstairs early one morning and discovered his six year old daughter sitting with her legs crossed on the kitchen counter and a box of Lucky Charms in her lap, he simply crawled up beside her and together they finished off the box, just as he'd done with her mother seventeen years before.


End file.
